Personal Narrative: Death: A New Beginning

On 09/12/2016, I Deputy Daniel Pruitt was dispatched to 52455 West Highway 16 for an unattended death compliant. I arrived on scene st 6:45pm and meet with Creek County EMS unit 40.

During my childhood and early teen years I did not think much about death, because I never experienced it and my parents never mentioned that topic. Death was not something that I necessarily feared only because I never had to think about it. I only thought of death as something that happened to older people and mostly to people on television. Furthermore, I never thought of death happening to me or anyone in my immediate family. Consequently, I had distanced myself from death and for several years managed to ignore my own mortality. It was not until my teenage years that I began to develop anxiety and fear of death after living through certain societal events such as mass shootings, terrorist attacks, and killings of people of color.

Cozy coffee shops, warm summers, friendly hugs…1.2.3. Disastrous events occur all the time. We are always aware that someone, somewhere in the world, is hurtling forwards into tragedy. Tragic endings leave behind unanswered questions, unfulfilled dreams, unspoken thoughts. Those who love you are left behind, in the dust of your presence, spent to forever remember only your memory, not your existence. Crisp slices of toast, piping hot cups of tea, fresh strawberries…1.2.3. We all tend to forget an end exists. We spend our lives compiling as many happy memories as we can, fully enjoying the good days, deeply mourning the sad ones. When tragedy strikes, only then are we reminded that the end is there, and we scurry and try once again to make the most out of

The remorse grey morning awaited. I never knew one person could have such an impact on my life, as well as everyone else’s lives. I always thought everything was just a beautiful fantasy land where everything was perfect. Waterfall coming out of everyone's eyes filled my imagination of what one man can do to a crowd. I asked myself one question, “Why him, why does it have to be him”. The emotions, pouring out of meand I knew the fall of 2006 was gonna be bad.

Well this year was a hell of a year. I mean, i didn't pass any of the semesters but i did observe a ton of stuff that went on in the class. The class in general was pretty lit. Every day went by and i honestly did some work. The class was ready to learn as mrs g was ready to teach. I mean yea we had some days were we didn't want to learn anything and there were also days when mrs g didn't want to teach. But ima be honest, doing the work we did wasn't in my best interest. Most of the projects we did in class i worked on, but at the end i didn't end up liking how i did it so i wouldn't even bother turning anything in. like the obituary we had to write about ourselves. I liked the meaning behind this but honestly i didn't want to work on that because it just brought back memories of my friends that were killed.

For the last few days I've left completely lifeless-not depressed- just lifeless. I'm very familiar with the feeling of depression. But this shit right here is on a whole different level.

Sometimes, the sorrowful events in life bring out the best in your life and yourself. Two years ago, I went through true maturation through a traumatic event that immensely affected me as a person. As pencils were being sharpened and the sounds of school filtered back into my life, I found out my Grandma had Cancer. In an effort to provide better treatment, she came to live with us for four months. That time was incredibly precious and special as I saw my Grandma in a whole new light. I saw her strength, her tenacity, and her positivity.

Brittany was said to seem cleared eyed and peaceful. Yet she still wanted to end her life. I don’t think that people should be able to take their life if the still have six months, that’s a lot of time. Also what qualifies a doctor to be able tell someone if they should or should not be able to take their life. However, I do think that at a certain point where the body is completely broken down and the person can do absolutely nothing they should have an option to end it. But if you allow every person that has a hard time be allowed to apply to “die with dignity” you will have a lot of dead people on your hands, no matter how many check points you put in place. People have a way of getting what they need.

Why am I torturing myself? Enclosed in a 3 sided cage with only the illusion of freedom out the steel framed front door. The mirrors on the walls staring at my jiggling fat from all angles. The dingy ceiling tiles are stained from countless roof leaks and the floor littered with pebbles and rubber from a busted medicine ball. The sting of body odor and bleach fills my nostrils. Head splitting music ravishes my ears through the chaos of weights clashing and ropes smacking the floor. My classmates glare at me with their squinty hypocritical eyes.

She watched him leave and climb atop his bike. He started it with minimal effort and soon disappeared into the light of day. ‘It was him,’ she thought. All of his words so fresh in her mind, had her frozen in her place. ‘It was him.’ Three simple words that kept coming back to her. ‘He said he’d be there.’ Molly knew the ball was now in her court. She could either call the game and walk away, or she could make a play. Either was the choice was hers’. She held all the control. It’s something she wanted. Death is ineviatable. How we die is something we can decide. Normally we are all on our crash courses with destiny, barreling at speeds we can’t even begin to comprehend towards whatever has been laid out before us. There are times when we can

When I was nine my father died. Death sprung from its hiding place and took what was most dear to me. I love my dad; he taught me to love and to enjoy life. We often went fishing and biking together. After his death the bikes and fishing poles collected dust in the garage. Sometimes when I let the feelings get to me, I would stare at the two dusty bikes and fishing poles and punch them with my small hands.

It was so devastating to get the news, that night my aunt had been in charge of caring for him overnight, she felt so guilty as if it were her fault. I’d been the first one up every morning and so I received a call from my aunt crying barely being able to speak, “Amy he’s gone, I’m sorry”. It was a Friday morning, that Friday morning that marked my life forever. As I informed my parents, it was difficult my mother shed to pieces and hurried to the hospital. Despite the loss, I went to school with no strength. Physically I was there, however but mentally I was not, all I thought about is our last words the night before and my promise to never give

On the day of April 6, 2010 I woke up, just like any normal day. The daylight quickly turned into sundown. It was a Sunday night just when I could barely see anything but heard all the commotion of wild animals outside. As I walked inside, I heard the telephone ring. My grandmother answered the continuous ringing of the phone. I could hear my great grandma through the phone. That night after the phone call I suffered a traumatic loss. This made me question everything about my life.

A few days went by , me and Karen took shifts staying with dad , I did more job searching , with dad out of work for now someone has to provide. Dad was quiet the whole time , watching the TV and barely eating anything. My leg was better as the days passed , I can walk faster , Karen's poor back was pealing with scabs like crazy . It was dad's last day in the hospital , I tried conversations with him , but nothing , I could not resist anymore. “ Dad , are you sure you don't know who could have done this?” He stared into fear ness again not saying a word. “ I'll be back to bring you home tomorrow .” I was walking out the room when he stopped me . “Mark !” I stopped looking at him , in a serious tone voice he looked at me . “ There's something you need to know .” I

Working in a long-term care facility, this reflection journal really hits my heart. Since becoming a nurse, my perception of death and the end of life care has definitely changed in a more positive way. I do agree many people do fear most regarding death is suffering and dying alone.